


On the Street Corner

by Oliver__Niko



Series: Sylvix Week 2020 [5]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Awkwardness, Busker Sylvain Jose Gautier, Busking, Crushes, Friendship, M/M, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26698540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliver__Niko/pseuds/Oliver__Niko
Summary: Felix is utterly charmed by a handsome busker and, unsurprisingly, isn't sure what to do with this instant crush. Luckily, Ingrid is there to help push things along.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Sylvix Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936372
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	On the Street Corner

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my last fic for the week! It's based off a true story I've wanted to use for ages, and I shall explain exactly how at the end.
> 
> Enjoy!

It seems to be a day like any other. Ingrid and Felix, two room-mates on the quieter outskirts of a city, venture home with grocery bags in their hands. The wind is picking up, grey clouds hanging above their heads with temperatures dropping. In order to avoid an expected downpour of rain, the pair walk quickly, although fortunately they should miss it even if they take their time more.

Nothing that is away from the norm. Not yet, at least.

“Goddess, it was much too crowded,” says Felix.

“There were only some people there.”

“Yes, so more than what I wanted.”

Ingrid shakes her head, although an amused smile is on her face. “Oh, Felix. You never change. Perhaps if you were a bit more sociable, you wouldn’t ignore messages on dating apps and actually _have_ a date or two.”

“I ignore them because ninety-percent of cis men have nothing on their mind but sex.” A pause, before he adds, “No, not even just cis men. And yes, I get that’s what they want, but I’d like to be greeted with something other than a request to see my ass.”

“Block them.”

“I do, before fucking with them first and sending them a picture of a donkey or something.” Felix smiles over Ingrid’s laugh. His head lifts when he notices the distant sound of music in his ears. “Do you hear that?”

Ingrid hums. “Yes, just about. It must be a busker.”

“Oh, you do get them here, sometimes. Good to get money in places where people are less rushed, I suppose.”

After a minute, the music becomes clearer; a guitar, to be precise, combined with a voice that Felix swears increases the pace of his heartbeat. A man’s voice specifically, raw yet beautiful all at once.

“ _And for him this life is made of time and choices, an endless blend of vistas painted bright with memories.”_

“He’s good. Very good,” says Ingrid, lifting her head up higher in a similar manner to Felix. A moment later, she lets out an ‘ _ah’_ sound. “There, a red-headed guy.”

He follows the slight jerk of her head to indicate a man standing a short distance away. As they get closer, his case comes in sight—filled with a fair amount of earnings, for good reason—as well as the man and his voice alike growing clearer.

A handsome face, the mouth of which sings, “ _F_ _or to be invincible, he needs your love.”_

Felix isn’t sure what is happening to him, other than this voice, that guitar’s chords, rooting him to the spot. He stares far more than anyone should at a stranger. Those fingers moving with purpose across the guitar’s strings, a smile lingering on the man’s face, clearly a lover of the music he so beautifully creates. It’s … mesmerising.

Felix doesn’t come back to reality properly until the man’s eyes flicker to his, his smile grows and he _winks._

Shit. It’s a simple action, one which usually causes Felix to roll his own eyes, yet that is far from what happens here. This man is simply so _attractive._ Tall, like Felix adores, and a faint line of stubble adding to his casual appearance. Crimson jeans, black leather jacket and messy red hair.

Felix fishes for his wallet. He’s far from wealthy due to constant denials of his father’s money, but even a little amount seems right when Felix’s heart has soared from mere notes.

A couple of coins are tossed into the guitar case. During an instrumental section, the man is able to smile more again and say, “Thanks, cutie,” with _another_ damn wink.

Felix is speechless. Where is all the sass he’d usually use in this situation? Anything else? He opens his mouth, heart racing, and a part of him screams to obtain this man’s number right this second. He would regret his entire existence if he didn’t.

Instead, Felix gives the musician an incredibly awkward smile and hurries back to Ingrid’s side, who’s stood some distance away.

“Felix, your face has never been redder.”

He blinks, only now noticing how cold the air feels against his cheeks. Pressing the back of his hand against one proves how much it is burning. “Let’s get going,” Felix says, walking ahead. He might be ignoring Ingrid’s words, but she, on the other hand, is far from dropping it.

“It’s that guy, right?” she says, peering over her shoulder. She laughs when Felix slaps her arm lightly. “What?”

“Be subtle!”

“Oh, Felix. There is _nothing_ subtle about that blush on your face.”

“I—shut up.” Felix eyes glance at the sky, as though keeping them away from her will help. “He winked at me.”

“Yes, I saw that.”

“And called me cutie. The _audacity_ of him.” Felix pauses, before adding, “Do you think he might be bi? Most guys who busk in leather jackets are at least a little bi.”

“Do you have a crush on the busker guy, then?” says Ingrid. Felix can practically _hear_ her grin.

“Crush? How old are we? Yes, he’s attractive, but that’s all there is to it.”

“Hmm. I bet you wish you got his number.” When there’s no answer, Ingrid chuckles to herself. “Are you disappointed?”

“No.”

“Yes. How about we go back there and you can ask him?”

“ _No!”_ He glares when her chuckles become full blown laughter again. “I’m not—it’s fine. Just some guy I’ll forget about later. Don’t fret over it.”

“I’m not the one fretting here. You really are attracted to him, aren’t you?”

“Well, physically, he’s my type,” Felix mumbles. “Sprinkle in the skill and anyone would be like this, surely?”

“Hmm. For sure.”

“I’m going to murder you.”

Regardless, Felix cannot help but smile as the two continue to walk on, amused at himself more than anything else. Honestly. An array of guys online who are clearly attracted to him, yet the only man who takes his eye is the nameless musician on a street corner.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Felix swears to himself that this will be a one off encounter. One single hot guy isn’t enough to distract him from everything else in existence. Only it does; the man is on his mind when he’s trying to sleep that night, and soon returns not long after waking up.

 _It’s just some guy,_ he thinks to himself as he, perhaps a little too violently, flips bacon over in a pan. _Why am I still acting like this?_

It’s ridiculous, but no matter what else he tries to think about, even his replica sword collection, his mind cannot shift away from those brown eyes and their stupid wink.

“You’re still thinking about that guy, aren’t you?” Ingrid asks as Felix puts bacon and eggs on her plate.

“Only briefly. He’ll be gone by the end of the day.”

“I bet.”

“Will you stop being so sarcastic?”

“I’m sorry, I should simply be honest,” says Ingrid. There’s a pleased smile on her face when she starts cutting into her food. “This is practically love at first sight, and you will not stop thinking about him."

“Shut up,” he mutters, sitting down across from her. His thumb trails over the bump in his pocket from his phone, and laments once again over how he didn’t have the courage to get the guy’s number.

Goddess, how he regrets it.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Several days pass. Felix has gone to the measure of completely avoiding that corner, just in case. He’s beginning to finally think of this stupid guy a lot less, and he’d prefer to keep it this way. There’s no productivity in allowing himself to be distracted over some guy he doesn’t even know the name of.

Or at least, doesn’t know the name of _yet_ _._ One day, not long after Felix has finished working from home, Ingrid pops in through the front door with a pleased smile on her face.

“Check out the Facebook account I’ve just linked you to.”

“What? Why?” asks Felix, sat on the sofa.

“No questions,” she says, now removing her shoes. Felix’s head tilts slightly in confusion, taking his phone and loading up the message. A tap on the link takes him to a profile with the name, _Sylvain Jose Gautier._

“Sylvain? Who the hell is …” His words drift off when his eyes land on the cover image and profile photo. “Ingrid.”

“Yes?” she says innocently.

He takes in the redhead on the cover image, arm wrapped around the shoulders of a blond man Felix assumes is his friend. “This is that busker guy.”

“It is, yes.”

“How on Earth did you find his profile?”

“He gave me it,” she says. “I asked him for his Facebook today.”

Felix’s mouth drops open. “You did _what?”_

“He’s been there at the same time for the last several days. He goes after work for a little while to get a bit of extra cash. I’ve been speaking to him, and today, he gave me that.”

“I … what? But why would you do this?” He’s not sure why he’s bothering to ask, when it’s rather obvious.

"Because you're head over heels for him and still refuse to make the first move."

"I—shut it." Felix pauses, glancing at his screen; specifically, the _add friend_ button. "Did you talk to him about me?"

"Briefly. I said you like his music but left out you being attracted to him. I thought that was obvious." Ingrid is now settled on the sofa next to him, still appearing rather pleased with herself. "I reckoned he could guess that much himself.”

Felix opens his mouth, ready to retort, although in reality, he knows that anything he says would be mere denial. He’s managed to remove his clouded lens after the time that has passed. That no, Ingrid is not simply teasing him, and the fact that his face had grown the colour of beetroot had not been a secret to everyone but her.

“I really couldn’t have been more obvious, could I?” he finally says.

“No, Felix. Definitely not.”

“Either way, I can’t just message him. That would seem creepy.”

Ingrid hums. “So you’re finally admitting you want to talk to him.” She chuckles fondly over Felix’s lack of an answer, all but for the shrug of his shoulders. “Come with me tomorrow. We can go see him after getting groceries again.”

“Goddess, no.”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

No, he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. The best option would be for Sylvain to have a psychic connection which allows him to message first. That would take one horrific step out of this.

And though messaging is theoretically easier, being with Ingrid, and so happening to stumble across Sylvain on his way home from shopping with her, would seem miles less creepy than messaging out of the blue.

“All right,” he finally says. “I’ll do it.”

He almost regrets saying those words the moment they leave his lips. What he regrets most of all, however, is never getting Sylvain’s number in the first place. And so, in the end, this does seem to be the lesser of two evils.

He can only hope to not make a fool of himself.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sylvain’s music is as beautiful as it had been a week ago. There’s still that natural rawness to his voice—it’s powerful, even. But there’s also a gentleness to it whenever Sylvain reaches certain lines of his songs.

And the way he plays that instrument … The only way to describe it all is natural. His stance, his fingers gliding perfectly across the strings, hitting every note with ease, no matter the difficulty. It’s as though it’s as much a part of him as his voice.

He waves to Ingrid and Felix when seeing them; likely for the former, of course. The pair stand to one side to listen, up until the point Sylvain takes a sip of water.

“Nice to see you again, Ingrid,” says Sylvain once the pair come closer, twisting the cap back on his bottle. “And you … You must be Felix, right?”

“That’s right.” Felix manages to keep his voice perfectly calm, despite how wildly his heart is racing. “Ingrid told me your name is Sylvain.”

“That’s right. It’s a pleasure.”

Sylvain is speaking and smiling normally, as though the incident a week ago never occurred. Maybe it’s only a normal part of Sylvain’s day. Felix imagines he has a number of girls who blush over him. Although he would simply expect to stand out, what with being a fully grown man who cannot handle putting money in a guitar case without freaking out internally.

“Seems like it’s been a great day for you today,” says Ingrid, gesturing to the guitar case.

“Oh yeah, I’m pretty happy with it! It’s helpful. Have some extra finances to deal with, you see, and it’s nice to get the extra cash in.”

In comparison to such a collected, smooth singing voice, Sylvain speaks in a rather casual, upbeat manner. It’s … charming, really. As annoyed as Felix is to admit it. In fact, a number of things about Sylvain are charming, which is also annoying.

“How long have you been playing?” Felix asks.

“Well over a decade by now,” says Sylvain. “By this point, it’s a natural part of me. I’d like to make something real of it one day.”

“Seems to be real enough, judging by how much more attention you’re getting online,” says Ingrid. “If you end up landing yourself a live venue, know the two of us would attend.”

“Seems closer than ever,” Sylvain agrees. He smiles at both of them. Felix manages a smile back, despite how badly nerves are hammering at his chest.

_Just do it. Do it, you useless thing. It’s only a question._

Instead, he hangs around silently as Sylvain and Ingrid continue their conversation. Goddamnit. He’s going to regret everything if he loses another chance. Sure, adding him on Facebook after today would seem less odd now, but still ...

Before he knows it, Sylvan is preparing to return to his music, and Ingrid is gesturing over her shoulder to the path they’re walking down.

“Let’s get going, then.”

Even though she says this, there’s something about her eyes, almost as though they’re egging him on. And that’s a challenge he truly can’t refuse. Not after all her teasing.

“Um, Sylvain?”

“Yeah?” Sylvain straightens back up, looking down at Felix curiously. Goddess, why is he so tall?

“Can I, uh, can I maybe have your number?”

He sees Ingrid smile widely out of the corner of his eye. It causes him to clear his throat, watching for Sylvain’s reaction. He doesn’t seem taken aback. Rather, he appears pleased, smiling almost as much as Ingrid.

“Any reason why such a pretty guy would be asking for that?”

It’s easy to assume Sylvain is bisexual, then. Unless he’s a jerk who simply loves to flirt. Either way, Felix wonders if his face is going to be hot enough to cook an egg sometime soon. “Maybe we could go get coffee or something.”

He’s not sure where that line came from. Either way, Sylvain now bears teeth in his smile, and … Holy shit. _Holy shit._

“Sure thing,” Sylvain says, whipping out a phone from his pocket. “Give me yours first, then I’ll message you.”

“Great. Sounds good.”

More than good. Felix is trying to keep his own mouth from stretching out into a smile. He gives out his number in a voice he forces to not tremble, watching Sylvain type it out in his phone.

“There we go,” says Sylvain. “I put a cat emoji by your name, as something tells me you’re a cat person.”

“You’d be right.” Felix is strangely charmed by such a tiny assumption.

“We should get going, then,” says Ingrid, seeming to understand that her best friend is about to melt into the ground at any moment. “See you later, Sylvain.”

“See ya! Nice to meet you properly, Felix.” Sylvain positions his guitar back into place, a hint of a smirk on his face. “And you didn’t go quite as red this time.”

Felix can only give an awkward smile as he and Ingrid walk away. He remembered. Oh Goddess, he remembered something that humiliating, and yet … is still interested?

“So, you actually did it,” says Ingrid. “Nice one.”

“I thought I might stop breathing.” Felix exhales deeply, as though to emphasise this point. “Uh, thanks for helping, Ingrid. I really appreciated that.”

Ingrid waves her hand in dismissal. “It’s the least I can do, when I know you would have struggled with it forever.”

“Forever is an exaggeration.”

Felix’s eyes drop down to his pocket when his phone vibrates. He smiles apologetically at Ingrid before taking it out, unable to respond to the text with anything other than widened eyes.

‘ _Did I mention that you’re_ _not just pretty, but rather, drop-dead gorgeous_ _? Let’s make that coffee you asked for a date x’_

“Felix, your face is going red again.”

“Yeah,” he says, finally not bothering to deny any of her words. “I’d expect no less.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! And the embarrassment taken from my own life:
> 
> -My best friend and I encounter a hot busker  
> -He likely overhears me saying that I'm gay to her  
> -I give him money. He winks. Said best friend laughs at my red face   
> -She, who is staying at mine for a few days, goes back and sees him again, getting his Facebook in the process  
> -"He likes David Bowie; he has to be bi, at least."  
> -I never actually spoke to him myself though, unlike Felix in this fic, as I'm even more of a useless bottom than he is
> 
> On that note, I hope you enjoyed my fics for this week! If you'd like to see my art for it too (I have one last art piece to post today as well), feel free to find me on Twitter @nikobynight.


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